A Friend in Need
by McIlwain
Summary: Tara's in jail. Only one person will stand up for her. **NOT A SPOILER**


**A/N: I have no idea what season 6 will bring. This is just a short that popped into my mind.**

**Enormous thanks to my beta, elbeewoods. Her knowledge and support are endless.**

**I own nothing.**

"What are you doing about Tara?"

Margaret's words exploded like a land mine across the kitchen. The words felt like shrapnel, too, penetrating everyone's eardrums with a bruising force.

Lowen had called this meeting. Jax stood near the hallway while Nero and Gemma sat the table. Chibs, Tig, and Bobby leaned on the refrigerator, unlit cigarettes moving restlessly through their fingers. Unser and Margaret were there as well. Evidently, there was no attorney-client privilege where Tara was concerned. Everyone here cared about her and wanted to help. It was the only reason Jax swallowed Bobby's betrayal and allowed him to enter his doorway.

Lowen had tried to argue a lower bail for Tara's release, but SAMCRO evoked images of hidden safes with millions stashed for these very occasions. Unfortunately, Lowen had rarely experienced a time when the SONs actually had a surplus in cash. She never had to worry about getting paid, however. They knew without cash in hand no attorney would come within a mile of them. Before Tara, Lowen had considered her relationship with the SONs an easy way towards partnership. And why not? The MC offered all a girl could hope for: steady income while cementing her reputation as a savvy plea dealer. What Lowen hadn't counted on was Tara's ability to humanize her clients. Where she had once seen them as a bunch of dirty rednecks, seeing Jax and Tara together had caused her to reconsider her opinion. She began to view them as fathers and husbands and businessmen, albeit illicit ones. What's more, she and Tara's relationship had developed into a friendship. And now her friend was in danger of losing it all – her career, her family, her freedom. Lowen couldn't help but glance at Jax in disgust. She would sooner spit on him than shake his hand right now.

"We aren't a bank, Margaret." Jax 's impatience was growing. He didn't need to be reminded of his wife wearing an orange jumpsuit at Stockton's female retreat. His never-ending guilt wouldn't stand for it. And if that emotion ever did waver, he only needed to her Abel's cry for his mommy to be transplanted back into that agony.

"What's wrong? Did you run out of people to extort? Women to pimp?" Margaret's body was beginning to shake as much as Jax's, and if he didn't know how much Margaret loved Tara his hands would be wrapped around her neck right now.

Margaret thought absently about how quickly she was reverting back to her street behavior. Evidently, years of therapy wasn't doing a thing to prevent it. Her good wool pantsuit and sensible heels weren't going to be able to contain her rage about Tara's crisis. She had tried, really tried to keep Tara from the quagmire known as the SONs. Margaret had ignored the rumors of Jax and Tara's relationship while Abel recovered from his heart surgery. She had been impressed with the young doctor, knew she had a good head on her shoulders, wouldn't even consider being with a hoodlum. But soon Jax's presence became ubiquitous at the hospital. And when he wasn't looking for Tara, his brothers hung around, almost afraid she would disappear as quietly as she arrived. Charming residents acted as though their relationship was normal, not some sort of bizarre, unhealthy, co-dependency time bomb.

Margaret had tried use Chibs' insurance scam to strong arm Tara into reality. When that only resulted in a beat down, Margaret had decided it was a lost cause. But the kidnapping, and Tara's discovery of her own gang experiences, had renewed Margaret's faith that Tara would get out. Margaret knew Jax was feeding Tara pipe dreams; he would never leave the life. But she was scared she would lose Tara if she forced that truth on her. So she tried to take baby steps, encouraging Tara to investigate job opportunities outside of Charming. And then her hand, her surgical gift, was almost taken away.

The renewed offer from Providence was a sign there was still hope for Tara and her boys. And now Jax's selfishness had stripped her chances again, and he didn't even seem to give a shit about Tara being terrorized and beaten by her inmates.

Margaret turned towards Gemma and the words came out in a hateful sneer. "Put her back on the block. Any loose change would help at this point." That vicious skank deserved as much blame as Jax.

Gemma stood up so fast it startled the room. "What did you say?"

Margaret could hardly wait.

"Did I stutter, bitch?"

Gemma's grab for the redhead's hair wasn't fast enough to prevent Margaret's sucker punch; the nose break that resulted caused Gemma to stumble and fall. The SONs were barely able to restrain Margaret's leg from connecting with Gemma's ribs. It took both Jax and Nero to restrain Gemma's howling form while Margaret thrashed in Tig's grip.

"It's not over, bitch," Gemma panted, blood flowing like a waterfall from her nose.

Margaret's sobs rang out tortured and curdling. "You want a piece of me, you crack-assed bitch? Bring it." No one but the lawyer seemed surprised by Margaret's actions. The ink on her back signaled her affiliation with the most ruthless gang in San Juaquin County.

"Both of you stop! This is about Tara, not your petty grudges," snapped Lowen. God, she envied Margaret right now; she'd always wanted to punch Gemma herself.

It took several minutes before Gemma and Margaret stopped resisting, and another five before Tig, Bobby, Nero, and Chibs could form a barricade between the women. The women eventually fell calm, their smirks an indication that their altercation was far from over.

Lowen's distaste was evident. "When was the last time you saw your wife, Jax?"

Jax lowered his eyes. He'd visited her when he could, had had crying spells with Thomas at 2 a.m. when he was too tired and stressed to negate his emotions. His wife's complexion had gone from porcelain to ghost white. Her hair had been savagely cut, and she had lost at least 10 pounds. He had questioned to the brink of insanity how he could secure the cash, had reworked every possibility in his mind but with no successful outcome. The only reason he didn't rob the bank of Charming was because Eli would be waiting for that contingency.

What little money was left had to go to the club. All the available capital had gone to Lin to purchase guns. The SONs had to be able to defend themselves from the Irish. They needed to show August and the Niners and the Mayans that the Cartel's double crossing wouldn't be tolerated. SAMCRO had to be ready for Toric as well. The SONs had to survive this apocalypse of deceit and hate and death before they could throw life rafts. Even if that meant hanging his wife out to dry. There was no other way.

"She has to get out _now_." The finality enunciating in Lowen's voice was frightening. Flashes of the Russian shivving and Opie's pipe beating rushed through Jax's mind and almost brought him to his knees. He simply could _not_ imagine those situations for Tara without wanting to hold a glock to his head. Only his children prevented him from enacting that scenario.

Margaret slowly turned and walked toward her purse, highly aware that Gemma was watching her movements like a predator. She retrieved a piece of paper and gave it to Jax. It was a certified check for $20,000. "I put my house up," Margaret stated matter-of-factly. Lowen stood beside Margaret with a certified check of her own. "My retainer," Lowen shrugged, adding the additional $20,000 to Jax's hand. "I can renew Tara's motion to reset bail. If I lean on her not being a flight risk, and remind the court she's a Charming success story, I should be able to get a hundred grand taken off the top. Then those checks should be enough to post bail."

Jax was ashamed. Tara's friends had done what her husband and club family, the very club that her freedom was at risk for, could not. He saw the dried tears still visible on Margaret's face, and absently thought how his mother hadn't shed one tear since Tara's arrest, nor had she offered to put her house up for collateral. Tara's fucking co-worker and attorney had shown her more love and loyalty than her husband. He willed his check-filled hand to stop shaking. Through his fog he saw a blur of black leather encircling Lowen and Margaret and giving thanks. When his brothers separated from the women, Jax walked forward. His thoughts were scattered and he was unable to articulate his appreciation. The only communication he gave was through the clear orbs that threatened to run down his cheeks. "This is for Tara, not some other SAMCRO bullshit. The SONs have nothing to do with this," Margaret gritted while Lowen nodded. Jax could only shake his head in acknowledgement. These women didn't wear kuttes, but at this moment, they had shown loyalty —a bond that surpassed his own club's—to a woman he had vowed to love, honor, and protect. He didn't know if he could bear to look at his wife again. Or face his reflection in the mirror.


End file.
